


A Hero's Welcome

by melissa13



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissa13/pseuds/melissa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Killian Jones returns to the castle after a dangerous voyage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hero's Welcome

A small sigh of satisfaction escaped Killian as his boots hit the ground. He was sore all over, having ridden many hours through the night, and the castle before him was a most welcome sight indeed. It had been a rough couple of weeks and the thought of a hot meal and a warm bed was all that had kept him going since making port; that and the fact that a certain princess would be waiting for him on this end was cause for him to push his horse as fast as it could go. Killian gave the poor beast a fond pat and handed him off to the stable boy who had come to receive him castle gates.

“How fares the kingdom, lad?” Killian asked him, removing his riding glove. His fingers carded through his dark hair in an effort to make it presentable.

“Well, Captain, sir,” the boy answered, looking up at him in awe. “Is-is it true, m’lord? There’s talk amongst the servants that you and your crew were sent to slay a great sea beast.”

“Aye, lad, ‘tis true,” Killian answered, amused by the boy’s curiosity. It reminded him of another boy he knew. “Tell you what, you take extra special care of my horse here, and I will come down another day and give you the full tale. It is quite thrilling.”

“Really?” the boy blurted out, before remembering himself and straightening up, his eyes bright with excitement. “I mean, I will, m’lord, of course. Thank you, m’lord!”

The youth scampered away merrily, leading Killian’s steed off, and Killian smiled to himself before directing his gaze to the towering castle before him. Never in a million lifetimes would he ever have imagined such a place to be his home, and yet it was. He was a lucky man, of that much he was sure. A swish of gold in the window of a particular tower caught his eye, but when he blinked, there was nothing there.

“Captain!” a welcoming voice diverted his attention from the window. Hurrying towards him was Richards, the king and queen’s chamberlain. “Welcome home, m’lord,” he said warmly, bowing slightly at the waist. “We did not know you would be arriving today. We thought not to expect you for another two days.”

“The tides were in our favor on the return journey,” Killian told him, only half-lying. The truth about the hurricane he and his crew had been caught in was better left for a later day. “I was eager to relay the news of the monster’s defeat in person.”

“Of course,” Richards said, a knowing smile on his face. He waved Killian inside the courtyard. “Come, their majesties are expecting you.”

Killian nodded and followed him into the courtyard. It was early afternoon and therefore bustling with activity. Townspeople bringing their petitions to the crown and their goods to market; soldiers keeping the peace; children running to and fro. As Killian made his way to the castle doors, many stopped to acknowledge him a “m’lord” or a “Captain” to which he smiled and tipped his head to. He would never get used to people regard for him now. They looked at him like he’d always hoped to be looked at when he was younger: like he was a man of honor--like he was a hero.

Richards led him to the royal council chambers where he announced Killian at the door. “Captain Jones, Your Majesties.”

There were several people within the council room, both familiar and not, but the one person Killian had hoped to see inside was not there. He struggled to keep his disappointment from showing, and hoped he managed to keep the smile on his face as he bowed to the two royals. He stuck to the formalities lest there be some amongst their council that still whispered about him behind his back.

“My apologies on the intrusion, Your Majesties,” he said, coming to a rest in front of their thrones.

King David smiled warmly and stood. “Nonsense, Jones,” he said, coming over to shake his hand effusively. “You’re the man of the hour around here. Our kingdom is indebted to you once again.”

Killian had never found accepting praise easy and ducked his head in embarrassment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Queen Snow attempt to rise from her throne, and hastened to her side to stay her.

“Please, milady, don’t get up on my account,” he begged, lifting one of her hands to kiss the back of her palm once she’d settled back in her chair. The queen appeared even more pregnant now that she’d been when he’d left a fortnight ago, and Killian knew it wouldn’t be much longer now until her babe was born.

“We’re all so happy to have you home, Killian,” the fair queen said, bestowing a kind smile on him. “We’ve decided to hold a ball tomorrow in honor of your victory. A true hero’s welcome.”

Killian felt his throat tighten. It was not often that he was rendered speechless, but as he looked from Snow to Charming he found he didn’t know what to say. “Thank you, Your Majesties,” was all he finally managed.

There was only one thing, or one person rather, that would make this moment perfect.

As he thought it, a door off to the side of the council room burst open and in rushed a young woman with long, curly blonde hair, her form dressed enticingly in a long, purple gown.

“They told me that—” the princess stopped short upon noticing the other people in the room, her eyes alighting on him for a long, intense moment before turning her attention to her parents. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were, um, entertaining.”

It seemed to Killian that all the air in the room had been sucked out at her appearance and his eyes drank her in greedily even as she ignored him. The whole room seemed to be looking from him to her, awaiting something; indeed, Killian himself was waiting for probably the same thing. The princess came over to stand by her father, and when her gaze fell on him again, her eyes pierced him with an icy look before she managed a tight smile.

“Captain Jones,” she acknowledged, tipping her head to him. “Welcome back.”

She was still upset with him, then. Well, two could play at that game.

He edged closer until he was right in front of her. “Your Royal Highness,” he greeted, giving her an over the top bow, flourishing both arms out to the side. Plucking her hand from her side, he placed a lingering kiss on the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers. “Looking radiant as always, milady.”

Killian could have sworn he saw the king hide a smile behind his hand as Princess Emma tore her hand away from his grasp.

Ignoring his compliment pointedly, she said, “I’m told congratulations are in order for your ‘triumph’, Captain.”

Hmm, she was definitely still upset with him. Fantastic.

Just as she had ignored his compliment, he ignored her slight. “It wasn’t just my triumph, but that of all my men,” Killian said truthfully. “Braver sailors could not be found in all the realm.”

“Be that as it may, tomorrow evening he will toast to your honor, the man who led them to victory,” David said, clapping him on the back. He turned to their audience. “Tomorrow at midday, we will reconvene this assembly to debrief Captain Jones about the particulars of his mission. Until then, we bid you all a good afternoon.”

Charming went to help his wife rise as everyone gathered their belongings to leave. A few people came up to Killian to welcome him home and congratulate him on the success of his voyage, and he had to endure shaking the hands of all seven dwarves whilst the princess glared at him out of the corner of her eye. He could feel his own frustration mounting as the room cleared, leaving only him with the royal family.

“Did I not say he was the man for the job?” Charming asked, his arm wrapped around Snow. “I knew we could count on you, Jones. You have our thanks.”

“Anytime, mate,” Killian said, glad to be able to drop the formalities.

“I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get settled in,” Snow said, an amused twinkle in her eye as she looked from him to her disgruntled daughter. “We’ll leave you to it. See you at dinner?”

“Of course,” he replied, dipping his head to them both.

Charming steered his wife out of the room and before the door had closed behind him, Emma had turned to him, mouth open, ready to give him the dressing down of a lifetime when he interrupted.

“Before you say anything,” Killian started, drawing closer to her as he spoke. “I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but since I set off a fortnight ago, I’ve done battle with an ancient kraken, been almost eaten by said beast, and then been forced to sail through a bloody tempest. I rode many long hours through the night to get here and the only thing I want to do more than take a hot bath is kiss my lady wife.”

Without stopping to let her reply, he wrapped one arm around her, capturing her in his embrace, before using his hand to tilt her head up. Then his lips were on her, eliciting a startled gasp from her that allowed him to plunder her open mouth with his eager tongue. At first she strived to remain indifferent, but her gasp turned to a moan at the touch of his tongue to hers, and her arms found their way around his body, leaving them flush up against each other.

Killian had dreamed of this moment since leaving the castle, dreamed of having her in his arms again. Every moment that his thoughts hadn’t been on the mission, they had been filled with Emma and only Emma. She responded enthusiastically to his kiss, sucking on his lower lip, making him groan, and in a sudden movement, he had her seated on the council table, trying to push as close as possible to her. Not for the first time he cursed the bloody dresses that she wore to please her mother; their excessive fabrics created too much distance between them. When the need for air became too great, they broke away from each other, touching foreheads, their noses rubbing together as they both struggled to catch their breaths.

“I’m still mad at you,” Emma murmured.

“I know, love,” Killian sighed.

A silence fell between them, and he could almost feel the gears turning in her head as she debated with herself whether or not to have it out with him right then and there or if it could wait. Finally, she let out a long and resigned sound.

“A bath _does_ sound nice.”

“Aye, that it does.”

* * *

 

Emma was already immersed in their overly large, porcelain tub when he entered their bathroom, clad only in his undergarments. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight than his love relaxing in the steaming hot water, eyes closed, hair up to keep it from getting wet, the tops of her breast peeking up enticingly above the water. He felt a stirring in the lower half of his body despite his exhaustion.

“I can feel you staring,” the princess said in a singsong voice, eyes still closed, lips curled up in a smile.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, darling,” Killian merely said, removing the last of his garments.

He undid the contraption that held his fake hand on, laying it on a table nearby. With his one hand braced against the side of the tub, he eased himself into the heated water, groaning as the warmth surrounded him.

Across the impossibly large tub, Emma had opened her eyes to watch him, and he felt her foot caress his thigh soothingly. Killian smiled at her, which she returned, and he was glad that she’d managed to put her anger aside for the moment. He leisurely began washing himself with a bar of soap, relishing in both the feeling of being clean for the first time in two weeks and his wife’s gaze following his every move.

“Who’s staring now, love?” Killian asked cheekily, winking at her from across the tub.

Emma simply smirked. “Come here,” she said, beckoning him to her. “I’ll get your back for you.”

Killian hummed appreciatively and moved through the water towards her. “If the lady insists.” 

He settled comfortably between her legs, handing her the bar of soap. He hand moved across his back, erasing all of his aches and pains, and he suspected that she might have been using her own personal brand of magic. He sighed into her caresses feeling himself relax for the first time since he’d left the castle. Such was his contentment that he failed to remember that which he should have. Emma innocently washed over a spot of bother on his lower back and his body seized up, gasp leaving his lips before he could stifle it. Emma drew back in surprise, dropping the soap.

“Killian, what--?”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted hastily. “‘Tis but a scratch.”

“Like hell it’s nothing,” Emma said, prodding him to sit up so she could see. He obliged reluctantly, cringing at her intake of breath.

Somehow he had forgotten about his injury, the four claw marks that kraken had left him as a parting gift. He’d gotten the wound cleaned but it was still rather daunting to behold. Emma ran her fingers over the shallow gashes gently but said nothing. Steeling himself, Killian pulled away and retreated to the other side of the tub. His wife’s clenched jaw and furrowed brow were clear warning signs. She’d been silent for as long as she’d been able to.

“You should have let me come with you.”

Killian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck reflexively. He’d known he’d have this coming upon his return. Her ire had been great indeed when he had left without her.

“Emma, love—”

“Oh, no, don’t you ‘Emma, love’ me,” she said fiercely, sitting up straight in the tub. “We are a team; where one of us goes, so does the other. We said so in our marriage vows. Remember those?”

Killian scoffed. “Yes, of course, but—”

“No buts,” Emma interrupted again. “Just because I was feeling a little under the weather for a few days—”

It was his turn to cut her off this time. “Under the weather?” he repeated. “Lass, lately you haven’t been able to make it through a breakfast without tossing your cookies. Imagine a week and a half on the high seas with your stomach. Not to mention in a bloody hurricane?

“I would have managed,” she insisted. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“I was just doing what I thought best—”

“I can’t lose you,” Emma blurted out, all of her fervor draining out of her face, leaving her looking vulnerable and small on her side of the tub. In the span of an instant, she went from the feisty princess to the little lost girl who’d been left behind too many times for her own good, and it broke Killian’s heart that he’d made her feel that way. “Do you understand? I _can’t_.”

“Emma,” he said gently. He found her hands in the water and allowed him to pull her to sit in his lap. She settled against his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“I wasn’t there to watch your back,” Emma said in a small voice. “And look what happened, you got hurt. What-what if you’d gotten killed?”

He’d never heard her like this before, but then he supposed she’d always been by his side in times of peril. “But I didn’t,” Killian told her. He tipped her chin up so that he could look her in the eye. “I am here with you, alive, at your side; as I will always be. You will never lose me. You couldn’t even if you tried, love.”

His quip elicited a shaky laugh from Emma who rolled her tear-filled eyes. “You know I love you, right?” she asked him, searching his eyes imploringly. “I don’t say it as often as I should, but you know, don’t you?”

“Aye, I know,” he murmured soothingly, feeling his heart swell with his own love for her.

He captured her lips with his in a kiss that was almost chaste. Before long though, their ardor for each other overwhelmed them and their kiss turned eager and passionate. He groaned into her mouth when she shifted suddenly in his lap, settling a leg on either side of him, rocking her hips against his already hard member. He tore his mouth away from hers, kissing and sucking his way down her neck to worship her breasts. She arched her back as he circled one pert nipple with his tongue while using his good hand to cup her other breast, brushing his thumb over her sensitive bud.

“Gods, I missed you,” he practically growled, pulling away from nuzzling her chest to look at her.

Gone was the vulnerable lost girl; gone with the feisty princess: in both of their places was the fiery lover. Her green eyes were dark with desire and her tongue flitted out to wet her swollen lips. “Show me how much,” she demanded, a challenge in her eyes.

Killian wasted no time in lifting her bodily from the tub, carrying her bridal style through into their bedroom, not giving the slightest care to the puddles of water they left behind in their wake. The servants would not thank him, but he’d worry about that later because now, now he was going to make love to his wife amidst the silky sheets of their marriage bed. He was going to worship her body and endeavor to show her just how very much he’d missed her.

After all, he thought as he laid her out a top their bed, with the exception of his Swan, there was nothing he loved more than a challenge.

* * *

The sun hung low in the sky by the time the two of them had sated their thirst for one another. They lay together under the covers, bodies entwined, making it impossible to determined where one started and the other finished. Killian scattered kisses along her neck and shoulders as his hand stroked lazy circles across her naked back. A most content sigh left his love’s lips, her eyes closed in bliss and her fingers gently playing with his hair.

“Am I forgiven, then?” Killian asked against her skin.

Emma let out a light, airy laugh. “Oh, not even in the slightest. You’ve got a lot of kissing up to do, buddy.”

“You are a stubborn lass,” Killian chuckled, unfazed by her response. “But I suppose if kissing is what you desire…”

Her trailed off, his lips finding their way to her mouth again, thus keeping them occupied for several moments. When they broke apart again, Killian situated his head between her perfect breasts, content to listen to the comforting beat of her heart.

“About the mission, though,” Emma said tentatively, after a few moments of silence.

Killian sighed. He reluctantly pulled away, lying on his side to look at her properly, propping his body up with his elbow. She matched his position, and try as he might he couldn’t find it within himself to be mad, not with the way she looked so beautiful; cheeks bright with color and golden hair looking so thoroughly tousled. He raised an eyebrow at her, prompting her to continue, and she took a deep breath before doing so.

“It’s just, all these missions you’ve been taking on…I know you think you need to...atone for your past,” she said haltingly, her eyes flickering to his and away. “That you need to prove yourself to everyone: to my parents, to the kingdom...to me even.”

“Emma—,” Killian tried to interject, but she placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. She was right, of course, and yet completely wrong at the same time, but he would hold his tongue until she finished what she had to say.

“You can’t tell me it’s not true,” she admonished gently, trailing her fingers down the side of his face. “But, the thing is, if you’re trying to be a hero, you can stop trying so hard because you already are one, Killian."

It was him who averted his eyes away this time, unable to take her words, as they were what he’d longed to hear his whole life. Somewhere along the line, however, perhaps the moment he’d watched the body bag that held his dearly departed brother inside of it slip beneath the waves of the ocean, he had let darkness and despair in, allowing them rule over his life, leaving little room for the hopes and dreams he’d once had. Emma, though, his brilliant, beautiful Swan had been the light to lead him out of the dark. She had quite literally saved him from himself and the only way Killian would ever be able to repay her was to love her as much as she deserved and more.

He pressed his hand against hers on his cheek as she spoke again. “You’ve proved it time and time again,” she sought to remind him, smiling that soft, happy smile that was solely reserved for him. “When you helped us save Henry from Pan, when you found us in New York after the second curse. You helped us defeat the Wicked Witch and you’ve been instrumental in helping my parents restore and protect their kingdom. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

It truly did warm his heart to know she thought all that about him, but she was missing a crucial point.

Killian pressed a kiss to her palm. “Thank you, love,” he said, entwining their fingers together on top of their mattress. “You don’t know how much your words mean to me. But you’re missing the key motivation for my actions. I didn’t do all those things for fame and glory or to be considered a hero.” He kept his gaze on her so that she couldn’t misunderstand. “I did them for you. Just as I do all that I do now to ensure your safety, the safety of your family, and your kingdom, as they are now my family and my kingdom. And,” Killian paused, started by the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. “Why are you crying? Have I said something wrong?”

He was completely caught unawares when Emma flung herself at him, grunting with the shock of her weight suddenly on top of him. She grabbed his face in her hands and slanted her lips over his and it was all he could do to keep up.

“No,” she finally answered when she tore her mouth away, still cupping his face. “No, you always say exactly the right thing.”

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, fingers coming up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

She smiled albeit a little nervously. “I have something to tell you.”

Killian hoisted both of their bodies up so he was sitting against the headboard of their bed and she was astride his lap. He couldn’t shake the feeling that what she was about to say would change his life forever. “What is it, darling?”

“There’s a reason I’ve been sick every morning for the past month,” she told him, and she was still smiling, so it couldn’t be terminal, right? “Why I’ve been a bit more emotional, or as Henry puts it, mood swingy, than usual.” Emma grasped his hand with both of hers and drew it down to press it against her stomach and Killian felt his heart stop.

“Surely you’re not—” Killian started, but stopped les his hope overrun him.

Her answering smile took his breath away. “I am,” she confirmed, tears in her eyes. “We’re going to have a baby, Killian.”

He had been a lot of things in his life: son, brother, sailor, pirate, lover, friend, enemy, and so much more, but he had never expected this.

“You’re with child?”

“Yes.”

“I-I’m going to be a _father_?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure the baby is mine?”

His beautiful wife laughed through her tears. “Yes, you idiot!”

Killian laughed too, a feeling of elation surging through his whole body. He felt deliriously happy, almost drunk with joy. “Oh, my love, this is the best news,” he gasped, pulling her into his embrace.

Never in the over three centuries that he’d been alive could he have imagined fortune to smile upon him as much as it had the last three years. To find his one true love after hundreds of years of being alone, planning revenge for the death of his first true love, and to now be married to her, living as a royal consort, head of the King and Queen’s Navy, and to be expecting a child? It was more than he’d ever dreamed possible for himself; more than he’d ever even dared to _hope_ for himself.

“No man deserves to be this happy,” Killian whispered, pressing his lips reverently to her golden hair.

“You do,” Emma replied, her voice strong and sure. “You deserve it all, Killian.”

His throat grew tight at her words. “I love you, Emma,” he said hoarsely, squeezing her once before drawing back.

“I love you, too,” Emma returned, and he could see just how happy she was. Her eyes were glowing with joy at the thought of getting a second chance at motherhood. “And we are going to love this kid... _so much_.”

Killian nodded fervently, not trusting his voice to speak. There were no words he could use to convey how much he already loved the child growing in her womb, so he simply leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Emma’s stomach, feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch in all the realms. Truth was, Killian didn’t need riches or treasure; he didn’t need to be a prince or a hero; he had gotten it right years ago: everything he needed was indeed right in front of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Did I fool anyone? :) I wanted it to be ambiguous at the start. Was this an AU? Lieutenant Duckling? Something else? Hopefully you all understood it was a Future Fic where everyone lives in the Enchanted Forest again. Please let me now what you think!


End file.
